Ghosts of Christmas Past
by LadyMoonHawke
Summary: The trappings of the holiday season bring up bad memories for Aurora. (Set in the Chronicles Universe)


Ghosts of Christmas Past  
  
By  
  
Lady MoonHawke  
  
  
Aurora tore back the tape holding the box closed, and brushed aside the thin layer of packing material, looking for the inventory. Once she managed to retrieve and look through it, she frowned. Digging further through the styrofoam, she started matching items to the list, then sighed. Everything in the box matched what was entered on the list. Unfortunately, she had ordered none of it. Wreaths, lights, ornaments, garland, and enough boughs to make a decent-sized artificial tree; all the trimmings for a holiday Aurora had no intention of celebrating.  
  
Hastily, she stuffed everything back into the box, picked up the shipping invoice, and headed for her father's office.  
  
"In," he called at her knock. She complied, then stopped in front of the desk and saluted before handing him the list.  
  
"Have a seat," he said, looking it over. "So it's that time of year again," he said when he'd finished. "This the stuff that just came in?"  
  
"Yes, sir. But-"  
  
"You can go ahead and put it up, then. It's not exactly regulations, but anything to keep the troops happy, right?" He smiled at her.  
  
"I didn't order this stuff, Commander. And it's not listed on the regular shipments, either. So what is it doing here?" she asked.  
  
"I had it ordered. I wanted to do something that would make you happy. Don't you like Christmas anymore? You loved it when you were a baby."  
  
Aurora's face hardened. "I was two. I toddled, babbled and ripped things up. And some of my Christmases after that weren't as happy."  
  
"Aurora, I've told you. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I can't change it now." Her father sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
She shook her head. "Not right now. Not with you. It just doesn't seem right." She stood slowly. "Permission to be excused? I have a shift in five minutes."  
  
He waved her off. "Go. If you don't want to deal with the decorations, I'll have someone do it later."  
  
Aurora was already heading toward the door. "Thanks," she said as she left.  
  
  
Her shift at Ops had been quiet, strange for a station with as many people as they had in such a confined space. Quicksilver had been in once or twice for information, and he'd smiled and nodded at her each time, but said nothing. For one irrational moment, she'd thought that the Commander had sent out the word to give her some space.   
  
And maybe he had, she reflected as she finished up her shift summary and prepared to hand over to Skyedansuer. The Commander may have acted like he was made of granite, but Aurora was coming to recognize the soft spot her father had for her, though she tried to avoid it. It wasn't fair to him when he'd already pulled strings to get her into his chain of command.  
  
"Hey! You going to sit here all night?" A voice startled her out of her reverie.  
  
Aurora found herself staring into Krysten's cerulean eyes.  
  
"What? No. Just...thinking," she replied, still a bit hazy. She shook her head, trying to clear it. "Space cadet, you know. Lost amidst the stars."  
  
Krys laughed. "Yeah. I've been there." She slid into the seat as Aurora vacated it, logging in by habit without looking. "Hey, are you coming down to the rec later? Mike and I are throwing a 'Deck the Hall' party. Chips, dips, and all the plastic pine swag you can stand."  
  
Aurora's nose wrinkled. "That wouldn't be much. I'm not crazy about faux deco."  
  
Krys smiled. "I lived in the desert. The only pine trees we had came from a box. But come down anyway. It'll be fun."  
  
One corner of Aurora's mouth turned up, a testament to Skye's habitually sunny demeanor. "I'll see what I can do," she temporized.  
  
"Come on," Krys wheedled. "Promise me you'll at least stick your head in."  
  
Now the other corner turned up. "I'll do my best," she stressed. "But I'm not going to make a promise I don't know if I can keep."  
  
"Great!" An incoming message demanded Krys's attention, and Aurora slipped out without another word.  
  
  
Aurora could hear the party music from the hall. She'd cycled through decompression earlier and pulled on her black warm-up suit, fully intending to at least put in an appearance at Krysten's decorating party. But now, steps from the door, her courage failed her, and she leaned against the wall, listening to drifts of music and snatches of conversation, deliberately keeping herself outside the warm circle of friendship just a few steps away. Laughter spilled out the open doorway, and for Aurora, it was the proverbial last straw. She ran without thinking, bolting past the open door in her haste to get away.  
  
Two pairs of blue eyes caught the flash of black outside the door. A moment of silent communication passed between cerulean and ice-blue, then Jonathan nodded once, heading out the door to follow Aurora.  
  
  
  
Everything was still at the end of the launch tunnel. Aurora leaned against the wall, watching the stars drift past, continuing in their silent dance. There was no cheerful music here, no happy voices chattering. Here she could be alone with her thoughts.  
  
Her reverie was once again interrupted, this time by footsteps in the hanger. Judging from the tread, firm but not heavy, with no echo of metal striking metal, it was Jonathan. She sighed softly. It was always Jonathan, trying to push the limits, dragging her out of her shell, refusing to let her wallow in her unhappiness. And now he was going to try it again.  
  
"What's the matter? Don't want to join the party?"  
  
Aurora folded her arms, giving Jon a sidewise glance. "What clued you in?" she asked, the words edged with sarcasm. "Couldn't be that I decided to do a disappearing act worthy of Houdini, could it?"  
  
Jonathan chuckled, leaning against the wall and mimicking her posture. "I don't blame you, really. I'm not much for all this Christmas rigmarole, either."  
  
Interested despite herself, Aurora turned toward him. "Why aren't you?"  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment. "I spent most of my holidays either at school, or with my father." His chuckle was bitter this time, and he opened his eyes, fixing her with an intense gaze. "And the holidays I spent with my father made the ones at school almost preferable." He sighed. "My father was not exactly a model for parental nurturing."  
  
"So I gather." Aurora tilted her head, wondering if it was against some sort of moral code to be glad that someone else had as lousy a childhood as she had. "What was he like?"  
  
Jonathan smirked. "Military, like most of the Greyers down through the ages. Apparently he knew what I was suited for even before I did." He shook his head. "And me, being the only son, there was really no question about it. My sister got off easier."  
  
"I didn't know you had siblings," Aurora murmured.  
  
Jonathan's expression softened. "Well, we didn't exactly sit down over dinner and tell each other our life stories, now did we?" He saw her eyes darken, and frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."  
  
"Yes, you did," Aurora fired back, turning away. "Listen, I appreciate the honesty, but...I came here to think." She hugged her elbows, determined not to let him see the tears that were starting to squeeze past her lashes. "And I can't do that with you standing here," she finished, her words sharper than she intended.  
  
Jonathan stepped up behind her, laying his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Neither of us can do anything to change the unhappiness in our past, Aurora." He gathered her hair in an inky fall down her back, smoothing it gently, though he stopped when she twitched her shoulders in annoyance. "Krys's really done a nice job. The old roost almost looks--"  
  
"--like home?" Aurora turned around, still hugging her elbows. "I'm sure it's lovely. Maybe I'll join you later."  
  
His icy eyes warmed a little. "You will? When?"  
  
"I said maybe, so don't get any big ideas." She nodded toward the lift. "Why don't you go on? I'll catch up with you later."  
  
Jonathan quirked his mouth. "I take it that's my cue," he said, turning away to leave her with an echo of his smile.  
  
For a moment, she thought she'd gotten rid of him. Then the footsteps echoed back.  
  
"You know what? No, I'm not leaving. You're not going to stand out here on the edge of nothing and mope by yourself. If you want to feel bad, that's fine. But you're not going to do it alone." He leaned against the wall next to her, arms crossed, mimicking her cold demeanor.  
  
She stared at Jonathan, willing him to leave. When it was clear that he wouldn't take the hint, she sighed plosively.  
  
"Do you really want to know the sad details of my miserable life?" she asked, her bland words belied by the invective in her tone.  
  
"Can it be any worse than a part-time father whose only interest was in how I could improve his career?" he asked facetiously.  
  
Aurora slid down the wall til she was sitting on the floor, knees drawn close to chest. "I guess you'll have to be the judge." She draped her across her knees as he settled beside her. "Where to begin?" she speculated. "It's hard to get a handle on when things first went south, really. I feel like I've been angry all my life, feeling unwanted and abandoned sometimes." she sighed again, softly this time. "Anyway, you don't want the whole twenty-two plus year novel. It was two and a half years ago, I guess, that things went really wrong."  
  
"What happened?" Jon asked.  
  
"My sister died," she replied quickly, forcing the words out.  
  
He waited for her to go on. "How?" he asked finally.  
  
"Bad brakes, dark road, drunk driver," she answered at last.  
  
"Did they get him?"  
  
"Her. Yes. For all the good it did. Prison sentence doesn't bring her back. Anyway, my mother became very distant after that. I suppose I did, too, considering I took an eight-week vacation in Colorado. But Christmas two years ago was where things came to a head, I guess...."  
  
  
_ "So what are we going to do for Christmas?" Steven asked, piling the last of the Thanksgiving turkey on slices of bread. He finished dressing the sandwiches and handed one to Aurora.__  
  
She bit into it eagerly and made appreciative noises. "I can't believe you're thinking of it already," she commented after swallowing. "One humongous meal is all I can contemplate at a time."  
  
"You'll have to do it without me," Carolyn said as she accepted her plate. "Thank you, Steven."  
  
Aurora set her food down. "Why?"  
  
Carolyn ate calmly. "Because," she answered finally, "there is a merger coming up just before the end of the year, and I have to go to London early to make sure everything is set up correctly. Then after the new year, I need to be in Paris for a conference. And since I'm going to be in Europe anyway, I plan to take some vacation time."  
  
"For how long?" Aurora asked, pushing her half-eaten sandwich away.  
  
"I should be back around mid-February," she replied.  
  
"So you are going to miss Christmas, New Year's Eve, and my 21st birthday all in one trip?" Aurora clarified. The few bites she had taken were already turning to lead in her stomach.  
  
"It's business, Aurora. I can't rearrange the plans of 50 people to be here for Christmas, or 1500 to change the conference. And frankly, I don't have the heart to face the holidays here without your sister."  
  
Aurora blinked, then stood up. "Excuse me." She didn't bother to wait for a response before storming out of the room and up the stairs.  
  
Steven sighed as her door slammed. 'Thank you, Carolyn. That certainly made my lunch happy and cheerful." His tone was biting. "I thought she was just about over it, but since it's clear that Amy's absence is the foremost thing on your mind, it's going to weight heavy on her, too. You've just reinforced her inferiority complex."  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Carolyn replied coldly.  
  
"It was hard enough for Aurora to compete when Amyrya was alive, being the smarter, prettier and more popular one. Competing with a ghost is a lost cause from the beginning."  
  
"I never favored either of them. I was equally strict with both my girls. And it's no easy thing to lose your daughter, Steven. Let me assure you of that. And this business can't be put off."  
  
Steven shook his head. "No one should be without their family on Christmas."  
  
"Aurora will be fine. She'd rather be with you, anyway."  
  
"I wasn't thinking about her. You're deliberately isolating yourself, too."  
  
Now Carolyn shook her head. "I'm not ready for full-scale holidays yet. Feel free to do whatever you and Aurora please. But I'm going to be gone until sometime after Valentine's Day."  
  
Steven dragged Aurora's plate over, picking it up with his own. "Suit yourself." He took the plates and disappeared into the kitchen.  
_  
  
"So what did you do that year?" Jonathan asked when she finished.  
  
"Went to Colorado with Steven. It was great, don't get me wrong, but I really wanted to spend it at home with my mother. But she didn't want to be with me, I guess."  
  
"I'm sure there must have been more to it than that. Your mother seemed like a charming woman when I met her."  
  
"Oh, she can do charming," Aurora assured him. "It's one of her best skills."  
  
"What happened next?"  
  
"Next? Ummm....Steven died in June. I picked up and moved to Colorado for a while, then went on to the Academy that August. It was that Christmas that I got back at her, in a way."  
  
"Why does that sound chilling?"  
  
"It is a bit chilling, I suppose," she admitted.  
  
"Are you going to tell me?"  
  
Aurora sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you. My Academy class had two weeks leave at Christmas. Some conference scheduled or another...."  
  
  
_ "So are you going home, Aurora?"__  
  
Aurora looked up at her roommate's voice. Jenna had poked her head in the door, and Aurora paused in her packing.  
  
"Not really. I'm driving out to the coast for leave. Want to join me?"  
  
"I can't." She made a face. "I have to be here for this conference thing. You going to lay out on the beach, go swimming and all that good stuff?"  
  
Aurora laughed. "It's much too cold to swim in winter. I'll probably shop instead." She zipped her bag and hoisted it from the bed. "Looks like I'm ready."   
  
A knock at the apartment door drew their attention. "I'll get it on the way out," Aurora said, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Merry Christmas to you," Jenna replied.  
  
The smile on Aurora's face froze as she opened the door. "Hello, Mother."  
_  
_  
Aurora slammed the trunk of her small sedan with perhaps a little more force than necessary. "So why did you bother coming?" she asked.  
  
"It's Christmas, Aurora. I wanted to see you. It's very quiet at home without you."  
  
"I'm sure it is. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get on the road. The highways aren't going to get any better if I wait." Aurora moved around to her door.  
  
"Wait, Aurora. I cleared my calendar and came all the way down here from Montana. I wanted to spend the holidays with you."  
  
Aurora studied her mother over the top of the car. "I'm sorry. I have to go to Malibu to meet with a realtor. I'm renting out the house after the New Year." She opened the door. "Have a good time." She got in and pulled the door closed. Then, before Carolyn could say anything else, she was pulling away from the building, dust from the street billowing across the sidewalk, partially obscuring a young woman walking nearby.  
  
Carolyn could only stand and stare.  
_  
  
"That's pretty harsh," Jonathan said at last.  
  
"Yeah. Now you can see why I was so surprised to see her when she came up. They don't exactly run tourist trips for civilians up here." Slowly she pushed herself up from the floor.  
  
"Was that surprised? It looked more like pissed off to me."  
  
She had to chuckle. "Okay. I was a little mad. I hadn't seen her since that Christmas. I even skipped the graduation ceremony because she could have shown up. I took a station duty instead, just before I came here. So when she appeared with no warning, it was a real shocker."  
  
"Shocked, I'll buy." Jonathan pushed himself up as well. "So are we going to a party?"  
  
"All right. You win. I will attend the party. I will sing, badly. I will even put up some kind of holiday decor." She looked at her chronometer. "In ten minutes, okay? I need ten minutes to do something, then I swear I will meet you there."  
  
He regarded her with mock sternness. "Ten minutes. Or I'll have to track you down and bring you back myself."  
  
"I promise. Ten minutes." She gave him a fond smile, then trotted away.  
  
He watched her for a moment, then headed back toward Krys's party.  
  
  
Aurora pressed a few keys, then tried to fix her hair in the moments left to her. "Record video-link message now," the computer instructed in Krys's voice.  
  
The red light came on, and Aurora smiled.   
  
"Hey, Mom." She gave a little wave. "I just wanted to drop you a line and say hi. These visual recorders are a new toy we're trying out. If they work, we should be able to keep in better contact. Uhm, it's almost Christmas. I guess I just wanted to say I miss you. I'm keeping busy, trying to stay out of trouble. It's been pretty quiet, which is nice." She stared into the camera, trying to decide how to finish. "Anyway, I should go. Merry Christmas, Mom. Love you." She hit the stop button, then before she could think twice, sent it through the stations network connection. "Yeah," she whispered as the connection completed. "Merry Christmas."  
  
  
She made it to the rec room with 30 seconds to spare.  
  
"I was getting ready to come after you," Jonathan remarked as she came in.  
  
She turned in a circle, showing off the black leggings and red sweater she'd changed into. "It was worth the wait though, right?"  
  
"It certainly was." He looked at the small case in her hands. "What's that you've got?"  
  
Aurora hid it behind her back. "You'll see in good time." She would have gone on, but a pair of hands covered her eyes from behind.  
  
"Guess who?"  
  
She reached back, tracking on the sound, and felt a cheek and wiry facial hair. "Will," she said calmly, "I don't know who suggested this, but it is probably my least favorite game."  
  
The hands disappeared and Aurora turned around. Will's crestfallen face made her regret her cool words. "So what are we doing?" she asked cheerfully.  
  
Will brightened. "Watching Krys try to chase down the Cowboy with mistletoe. He's not running very fast."  
  
Aurora laughed lightly. "We might as well see if she needs a hand." She looked over to Quicksilver. "Coming, Jonathan?"  
  
His smile was indulgent. "In a bit," he promised. As Aurora moved over to the knot of other Silverhawks, Jon sat down near the Commander.  
  
"So how did you pull it off, Lieutenant?" the Commander asked gruffly.  
  
"I asked. She blew me off. I refused to be blown off, and she got some stuff off her chest. So I asked again, and she gave in. She needed ten minutes to do something, so I threatened to chase her down if she didn't show up. I don't like to push her, though," he reflected.  
  
Her father harumphed. "Whatever works. You going to go over there and get your turn?" he asked as Aurora exchanged kisses with Will, Michael and the 'Kidd under a sprig of plastic mistletoe.  
  
Jonathan smiled, but shook his head. "No. I have higher aspirations than polite peck at a social function."  
  
Stargazer stood up. "Well, suit yourself, Lieutenant. But I remember exchanging polite pecks with a certain Carolyn Buchanan at a Christmas party. Made me wonder what a less 'polite' peck could bring me." He joined his troops and exchanged kisses with the women.  
  
  
Aurora finally broke away from the exchanges of affection to look around. "So what else needs to be done?"  
  
Krys pulled herself from Will's enthusiastic hug. "We were just about to turn on the lights and start admiring."  
  
"Great. Let me put something on the stereo and we can sit down and gape." She fiddled a moment with the sound system, then collected the remote. Turning on the tree lights and turning off the room lights, she shooed everyone to sofas.  
  
"Okay," she began once they were finally settled. "This is something I remember doing at home for a lot of years. I don't know when we started, but we didn't for the past two years. Anyway, I found the CD earlier and wanted to revive the practice." She curled up next to her father, then pointed the remote and activated the stereo. A series of arpeggios poured out of the speakers, followed by a jewel-bright voice.  
_  
"Ave Maria  
Gratia plena  
Maria, gratia plena  
Maria, gratia plena."  
_  
Aurora let her head rest on her father's shoulder. "Did we do this when I was little?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes. I even called a radio station to play it when your mom was in the hospital after Amy was born. I managed to get in a little tree in a pot and a 'Baby's First Christmas' ornament. It was probably the most pathetic tree I'd ever seen. Your mother said it couldn't have been better. A classy lady, your mom." His voice was soft with memory.  
  
"I know. And I've been too hard on her. I hope I get the chance to make it up to her." She forced herself not to twitch as her father's hand brushed her hair. She'd been too hard on him in the past as well.  
  
"Don't wait for the chance," he directed her. "Make the time for it. Don't let me down on this."  
  
"I won't, Daddy," she promised. "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Aurora."  
  
The old Latin hymn swirled around, wrapping them in its sacred peace.  
  
  
*THE END*  
  
  



End file.
